


Dear Boy

by maryfic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Implied Het, Implied Relationships, Implied Slash, M/M, darkish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1426528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryfic/pseuds/maryfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angelus had always had other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://rekindlespangel.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://rekindlespangel.livejournal.com/)**rekindlespangel** 2011.
> 
> Inspired by Cath and our brainstorming sessions about *her* Halfrek story.

Angelus had been watching when the quiet, poetic, bullied, blond exited the party. He’d seen the young man several times over the last month – seen his consumptive mother cough her life away and watched him care for her like a child.

The tall Irish vampire had knocked him down early one evening a few nights later, and picked several pages up from the scattered mess, tucking them away before the human’s blue eyes could focus on him, with more pages in hand.

“Th-thank you, sir,” William said, his dark blond curls playing around his glasses in the wind. Left a bit long, they settled around his ears as Angelus used his body to move them closer to the building. Now he could smell him properly, embarrassment riding high as William shoved papers back into the small book he carried.

“It’s nothing,” Angelus replied, his brogue lacing the words. There was his sign, he thought, brown eyes marking the faintest redness of cheek and a long surge of shame spiked arousal from the young man. He tilted his hat and walked away, leaving a befuddled William staring after him.

William shook himself, trying to get the image of the stranger’s face out of his mind. It was late, and Mother would be expecting her tea very soon. He went the same direction as the man for a few feet, then shook himself and turned around in the right direction. This was no time for distractions.

Especially not of that sort.

 

Later in the week, Drusilla had introduced him to a demon she called Halfrek. He had little to no use for vengeance demons, but when Dru wandered off and he ended up alone with the tall brunette, he found himself offering her a drink, if only for the company she provided.

“You grant wishes?” he asked incredulously, well into his cups and enjoying the respite from both Darla – who had gone off to France for god knew how long – and Drusilla, who had gone to find herself a nice child to eat.

Halfrek (call me Hallie) laughed. “Is it so very strange, considering what a vampire like you must see?” she replied, drinking the whiskey slowly. Hallie would have much preferred mead or perhaps a light colored wine, but when in Rome, you drank what Caesar drank.

Angelus nodded. “I slept with a Murgle demon once. All hands – never knew if it was male or female. Not that I cared,” he added. “Too much female company drives me right mad.”

She put her glass down. “And what am I, then?”

Angelus shrugged. He wasn’t worried about offending people or demons. Hallie let it go, but her hurt feelings surprised her. The vampire was attractive enough, but she could tell from his positioning that he had no interest in her.

“Mostly I grant wishes for children with bad parents,” she continued the explanation. “There are so few people who really care for the little ones. They need me.”

Angelus snorted. “I need you more than those brats do,” he muttered thickly. It was intended to be an off-hand comment, but when Halfrek turned to him with a serious expression, something rolled in his gut, and he saw blue eyes behind round glasses and thick blond curls in his mind.

“Aren’t you already on a job?” he said. “Dru told me you were on a job already. Can you things take on multiple wishes?”

Halfrek preened. “I can do what I like with the powers I have, thank you very much. And I’ve done multiple wishes before.” This was an utter lie, but she knew he couldn’t smell it on her as he could a human, so she said with as much confidence as she could muster.

This, of course, was a dead giveaway. Angelus spent a good portion of his life observing people’s mannerisms, and reading people was just another skill of his that hadn’t changed when he died. Another was his ability to ingest copious amounts of whiskey – the bottle they’d been sharing was regrettably empty, and he didn’t have another. He crashed the bottle in the cold fireplace, just to hear the noise, and considered her words.

He did want something, very badly – and using magic to back up his own skills was not something he was averse to doing. In fact, he had paid others for their skill – and then killed them afterwards, so in the end, he’d paid nothing all. Which was how Angelus liked it – getting things for free was something else carried over from his human years. Though he did work a good bit more now, truth be told.

The half-drunk vampire shifted on the couch to be more comfortable, then unlaced his pants and beckoned Halfrek up his body. He’d test this skill first, before entrusting her with the desire of his heart.

 

Halfrek had performed admirably, though not with any great fanfare, and Angelus made his wish – for William, for eternity, for solace and companionship and fighting and fucking and for god’s sake, a break from those damn women of his. He was thinking of squiring his new childe away, once he woke – showing him the world through new eyes and letting him write reams of poetry that they could read by firelight and then fuck, rolling over the pages, the ink sticking to their flesh.

It was a fine fantasy, and one whose beginnings would be implemented tonight, three weeks after the wish. Angelus could see, through the window, a group of young people. William looked dreadfully uncomfortable but eager sitting next to a coiffed and laced Hallie, in the guise of Cecily Underwood, a society bitch that William fancied.

If he’d known about this before he’d made his wish, Angelus might have chosen other means of accomplishing his work, but Hallie had been in place here for nearly a year, and dammed if Angelus didn’t care as long as he got William.  
Worse, somehow Drusilla had found out about William (from the fucking demon, no doubt) and was rapidly spinning romantic fantasies about a brave knight and her the princess in distress. He didn’t think so.

Now it was only left for him to feed and come back in time for the arranged signal he’d given Halfrek the day before. An hour was more than enough time to find a mark and return. Angelus smiled. Soon, he would have his boy in all ways, and he would truly be a sire to him.

 

This all would have worked better if Halfrek had kept the group under control a little better, but the other boys had begun to tease William much too early in the evening and, having tormented him to a private space, he’d found Cecily and confessed the truth of the matter to her – and her fateful words sealed his fate, though he didn’t yet know it as he fled the house, avoiding the main streets to hide the hot tears pouring down his face.

William, quiet sobs tearing from his chest, rounded into the alley, seeking peace and a harbor for his battered emotions. He never saw Drusilla, arms open, murmuring about stars, and death, and glorious knights charging the princess’ gates. And he never heard the primal scream of anger as Angelus entered the alley behind him, a terrible scene in front of the vampire’s eyes.

Drusilla, mouth bloodied, and Will, his William, his boy, dead at his childe’s fangs – his *childe*, his insane murdering childe – not his, forever, not his hands. He tore the body from her, and backhanded her into the wall. She slid down it and giggled, tangled in her skirts and not understanding her daddy’s anger with her – it must be something about her sweet prince, she supposed. But Drusilla had already forgotten William, her mind already refocused on Angelus and his actions.

Angelus, so angry and hurt that he was crying over the blond corpse in his arms, tore open the waistcoat and shirt to reveal the marks in his neck, Drusilla’s marks, and he wanted to kill her, but seconds were wasting and then he felt it – Drusilla had turned him, had already begun the process to bring William back to him.

All he could think was that his dear boy would be his after all. But he would never forgive Drusilla for taking William’s life.

Not as long as he remembered.

END


End file.
